


and i still (please find me)

by babyweis



Series: breathing the air of a destroyed world [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Collars, Crossdressing, Dubious Consent, Human Trafficking, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Slaves, all the members are mentioned but i've only tagged the main ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:46:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13293180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyweis/pseuds/babyweis
Summary: They take Junhui inside the walls.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4am atm and i'm super tired but i'm just,,, gonna post this now. this is the second part of a series, and i recommend you to read the first part too (if you haven't) so you'll get a catch of what exactly is going on - the universe they live in is explained better and you get backstories and so on. 
> 
> and yes, this part will be chaptered, but it will probably have max. 6 chapters alltogether?
> 
> so anyway, i hope you'll enjoy the ride

"You're so pretty," Mingyu whispers, his arms circling around Junhui's waist from behind. "Do you think you could let your hair grow long again?"

Junhui laughs, his hands coming to rest on top of Mingyu's as he stares at them on the mirror. It's huge, reaches almost from the floor to the ceiling, and there are a few cracks on the upper right corner. "How do you even remember? I cut it like, two days after Seungcheol brought you here."

"It was more like two weeks, actually," Mingyu says, resting his chin on Junhui's shoulder. "And of course I remember. I was so disappointed back then."

"Over me cutting my hair?" Junhui asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It was so pretty," Mingyu says, sighing almost dreamingly as he meets Junhui's eyes in the mirror. "It was probably the first thing that made me fall for you."

"You can't fall for anyone in two weeks," Junhui mumbles, flustered. He breaks their eyecontact and stares down at his own feet instead. "And is my hair not pretty like this?"

"Of course it is," Mingyu hurries to say, sounding almost offended over the fact that Junhui could ask such a thing. He hugs Junhui's waist tighter and intertwines their fingers on both hands. "I just would really love to see you with long hair again."

Junhui smiles a little, lifting his head to meet Mingyu's eyes in the mirror again. "Fine. I'll consider it."

"Great!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
That was five weeks ago, on 21st of July, around six in the evening. It had been hot, so hot that everyone had decided to stay inside to avoid getting their skin burned. And it had been hot inside too - in the end of the day all of them had been shirtless, hoarding water bottles while searching for the coolest corner in their home.

It had been miserable, but Junhui had been happy, even with Mingyu hanging off of him and making both of them even hotter. At one point, Junhui had told Mingyu to let go of him so they won't die of a heat stroke, and the younger had sulkily complied, leaving to the bar downstairs to get more water. When he came back, Junhui had launched himself on him, arms wrapping around Mingyu's waist and telling him that then again, if they're both to die due to heat, might as well die together.

Chan, who had been the only one close enough to hear them, had thrown a pillow at Junhui in disgust. Mingyu had spilled the water in surprise and soaked Junhui with it, and the latter had screamed at him, until a few seconds later he realized that the cool water on him felt rather nice.

That was five weeks ago, and now it's the 25th of August, the last heats of summer just going on. Junhui has stayed inside for the past three weeks, but even at those days when it's burning hot outside, he has barely noticed, because Minghao's home has an actual air conditioner, a brand new one that actually works, making sure that the temperature is just right in every corner of the enormous apartment.

Minghao's home has a lot of other things, too. Like a fridge. And a television. And one huge bathroom with a bathtub that's big enough to easily fit three people, and a massaging shower, and another bathroom that has a smaller bathtub, but also a massaging shower. There are four bedrooms, all of them big, but the master bedroom, where Minghao sleeps, is enormous, related to an actual room full of expensive clothes. His bed is also huge, and whenever Minghao orders Junhui to sleep there with him, the latter thinks about how it could probably fit at least three people more in it.

Sure, Minghao's apartment has a lot of things, a lot of things Junhui has missed and hasn't ever remembered they exist, but it's still horribly lacking.

It lacks Wonwoo's deep voice and the books he has managed to gather, Seungcheol's warm hugs and Jisoo's equally warm smiles. It lacks Seokmin and Chan's loud voices as they play around, and Jihoon rolling his eyes at them even though seconds later he laughs along with them, too. It lacks Hansol, the way the young boy would wrap himself around Jisoo or Junhui whenever he's feeling down, and Seungkwan, all the memories of Seungkwan.

And above everything, it lacks Mingyu. Mingyu's crooked smile, warm hands and hugs that last longer than they're supposed to. Mingyu, who wakes Junhui up by kissing him on the lips, who knocks things over and trips over his own feet, who at times spits out the cheesiest things Junhui has ever heard, and at times talks about things as if he had all the knowledge of the universe, who stays up late with Junhui and plays with his hair and tells him stories with his beautiful voice when Junhui can't sleep. Mingyu, Mingyu's laugh, Mingyu's tan skin, Mingyu's body pressed against Junhui's, Mingyu's eyes, Mingyu's voice that raises in pitch whenever he's excited or nervous, Mingyu's hands, Mingyu's clothes, the blanket Mingyu always carries around with him and sometimes suddenly wraps around Junhui, the blanket with Mingyu's faint scent in it.

Mingyu, the one who helps Junhui stand on his feet when all he wants to do is lie down and never get up again. The one who Junhui comforts in the darkness of the night when the memories of his family stab too deep. The one who is in the center of Junhui's life, the sun that radiates warmth and keeps Junhui alive and breathing. The sun that sometimes falls down, only in front of Junhui, only to Junhui, and who Junhui helps back up with the softest words and kisses.

The only one who Junhui has ever loved with such a burning passion that it hurts is insides, causes flowers bloom inside his veins and fireworks inside his chest. The only one who has ever held Junhui so close and told him "I love you, too".

Because that night, five weeks ago, when it was already so late they could go outside, Junhui went outside to get water with Jisoo, and only Jisoo came back home that night, the water long forgotten as he struggled to breathe from running, because Junhui had been taken, shoved inside one of those black cars with a gun against his head, and he couldn't stop them. And Mingyu had yelled, had pried everyone's hands off of him as they tried to stop him, cried and yelled and cried and yelled until his voice was gone and he couldn't stand on his own anymore.

Junhui doesn't know that, doesn't know how Jisoo still blames himself for it, doesn't know how Mingyu fell sick after crying so much. He wasn't there to see, because he had been taken to the city centre in that black car, inside the walls that separate them from the others.

They had dressed him up and brought him to an auction as if he wasn't even a human, but a product, a toy they could treat however they wanted. Even though he fought. He kicked them. Punched them. Bit them. Yelled at them, called them names, gave them his most poisonous stares when they gagged him so he would shut up.

He wanted them to get tired of him, so they would gladly throw him back outside the walls and he could go home, back to Mingyu. After all, surely no one would be interested in buying someone like him, right?

Wrong.

There were three of them, two of them being quite old already, while the last one was probably just a few years older than Junhui. They bid high, very high, offered amounts of money that could feed fifteen people for a lifetime, and Junhui was so tired, so done, his entire body was aching and he really just wanted to cry, he really _just wanted Mingyu there._

At some point, the younger man gave up. Then the other of the older men. Junhui was just preparing himself to be sold to the other one, when a sudden, unfamiliar voice rang through the hall, promising such an enormous amount of money Junhui almost blacked out then and there.

That's how Minghao took him home.

And the first thing he did when they arrived there, was wrapping a black leather collar around Junhui's throat. The kind that Junhui had only seen on dogs before.

The longer he lived inside the walls, though, he saw a lot of people wear it, too. Those people were all around his age, young and beautiful, and they never went anywhere alone, because their owners were with them at all times. Many of those owners were old men, similar to that one who almost bought Junhui at the auction.

That is the only thing he admits he is grateful for. That at least he was bought by Minghao, and not by one of those men.

Minghao is the same age as Mingyu is, a year younger than Junhui. He's Chinese, just like Junhui, and apparently that was a part of the reason he bought him. His parents passed away a year ago, leaving Minghao with a huge legacy. He says he's not sad, nor does he miss them, as he was never close with them, anyway.

"Nowadays no one is close with their parents," he says, twirling an empty wine glass in his hand as he sits on his expensive leather couch. Junhui is sitting on the floor, kneeling before him, a leash attached to his collar. He's wearing a white t-shirt and a black skirt. Minghao says he likes pretty boys who wear skirts, that it turns him on. He says Junhui is the prettiest boy he's ever laid his eyes on.

Junhui doesn't complain, but neither does he thank him. Mingyu had also told him he's the prettiest boy in the whole world. He thinks about Mingyu, about his gentle hands and beautiful voice. He wonders if he'll ever be able to meet him again.

Minghao drops the wine glass onto the floor, and it shatters. Junhui is quick to gather the pieces with his hands, even as he gets small wounds on his fingers. He brings the shattered pieces to the kitchen and dumps them to the trash. Minghao follows after him, presses him against the counter and fucks him there.

Junhui still thinks about Mingyu.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look who actually updated after 73829272 years

"We are having a few guests over today," Minghao says as he pulls a knee-high sock up Junhui's long leg, his cold hands remaining a second too long under the black skirt. Junhui tries not to flinch.

"What kind of guests?" He asks, and when Minghao glances up at him, he adds a quiet _"sir"_ to the end of the question. The other straightens his back, looking pleased.

"Just an old friend of mine," he explains, turning around to leave the bedroom. Junhui follows. "I suppose his _pet_ will come too."

Junhui doesn't reply. They make their way to the apartment's wide balcony in silence. Junhui watches how the city wakes up all around them, the sky losing all of the beautiful colors of the sunrise and turning grey. Standing on the eleventh floor, he can barely see the people and cars moving down in the streets.

He can see the wall, behind all the skycrapers, can see the dead, unmoving city behind it.

He misses being there.

Minghao's hands grab his waist and suddenly Junhui finds himself with his hips pressing against the railing and his upperbody leaning down over the edge. His breath hitches and he grabs the railing with his hands, not daring to move otherwise. The wind brushes his hair and wets his eyes, so he can't even see properly.

Minghao's voice is softer than Junhui has ever heard it being, coming from somewhere above him, "I could push you down right now, and no one would care."

Junhui doesn't answer, he can't - he's too busy choking on his own breath. It's a familiar feeling, from the times when he was still home, from the day Seungkwan left them, from the nights he lay awake alone and couldn't sleep even though he was so tired.

From the day they took him and he had thought of how he's never going to see Mingyu again.

"They would see the collar on your broken neck and walk past you, until someone collects what's left of you as if you're just a piece of trash, waiting to be dumped away," Minghao continues. His other hand leaves Junhui's hips and grabs his hair instead. "They wouldn't care about where you're from. No one would come up to me and ask me why I did it. I wouldn't face any punishments."

Junhui breathes in, a heavy feeling in his chest as he tries to exhale after, causing him to violently cough the air out. There's an aggressive yank to his hair and it takes a moment for him to understand that Minghao pulled him up against his own body. His own heartbeat is ringing in his ears.

"No, sir," he whispers with a hoarse voice. "Someone would care."

Minghao laughs, and Junhui's cheeks are burning with something like shame, but he still tries his best to focus his shaky gaze on the younger. A person like him would never understand, anyway.

"Those friends of yours?" Minghao asks. "They wouldn't."

"You don't know them, sir," Junhui says, finally gaining back his balance as he's able to lean back and stand on his own. "They would. Mingyu would."

"Mingyu?" Minghao repeats, and Junhui almost flinches at the way the name leaves his mouth. It's not supposed to be said like that. "Interesting. Who is he?"

Junhui frowns and completely pulls himself free from the other's hands. "He loves me," he ends up saying.

Minghao quirks an eyebrow and then lets his lips twist into a smile. "Sure he does," he says, and then takes Junhui by his wrists and pulls him inside. The door to the balcony is firmly shut after them.

Junhui kind of wishes Minghao actually had shoved him down instead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Minghao's old friend is called Soonyoung. He's around Minghao's height, a little shorter maybe, but he still somehow manages to make himself look tall - maybe it's the aura of confidence he has around himself when he walks in. His eyes are sharp and somehow threatening, and Junhui avoids looking at his face altogether.

His _pet_ did come along, just like Minghao said. His name is Jeonghan, and he stands with his back straight and chin up right next to Soonyoung, holding onto the other man's arm with both of his hands. They would look just like a normal couple if it wasn't for the leather collar on Jeonghan's neck.

Junhui stands behind Minghao, bowing his head and keeping his hands formally behind his back. When after quick introductions Minghao tells their quests to come further inside, Junhui waits for everyone else to go before he follows behind. Jeonghan still walks by Soonyoung and holds onto his arm as if he belonged there.

"Junhui, go make us some coffee," Minghao says as he sits down on his armchair, Soonyoung taking a seat from across him on the couch.

"Yes, sir," Junhui mutters, swirling around on his heels to walk into the kitchen. He's already on the doorway when he hears Soonyoung say, "Hannie, go help him."

 _They even use petnames,_ he thinks as he makes his way to the kitchen counter. There's a sound of footsteps behind him, and he glances over his shoulder to see Jeonghan standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking around in awe.

"It's a lot bigger than ours," he says.

"Yours?"

"Yes. Mine and Soonyoung's."

Junhui frowns, turning his back to the other as he starts preparing the coffee. "You call his home yours?"

"Of course I do," Jeonghan says, sounding a little offended but most of all, curious. Junhui listens how his footsteps get closer. "Isn't this place your home, too?"

Junhui snorts. This place, his home? A place without Mingyu - how's that a home?

"No," he says. "It's just a place I live in."

Jeonghan appears right beside him, leaning on the counter as he watches Junhui, still looking way too curious. "You don't like Minghao at all, do you?"

"I don't," Junhui says, lowering his voice a little bit just in case. Jeonghan nods.

"That's understandable," he says, and then stands back up straight. "I've met him a few times before. But you know, he used to be childhood friends with Soonyoung, and Soonyoung's told me that actually, he's very nice."

Junhui rolls his eyes at that, clicking the coffee maker on.

"Did you know he was abused by his parents?"

Junhui stops at that, his mind going blank as he tries to think what he was supposed to do next. He looks at Jeonghan, and the latter looks back at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I guess you didn't."

"Whatever," Junhui grumbles, turning around and walking to the fridge. He was supposed to get the cream. "I don't care."

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Junhui remembers when he was fifteen and had been left home alone with Jisoo to take care of it while the others were looking for food and other supplies. It was three in the morning, and Jisoo had fallen asleep an hour ago. Junhui didn't have the heart to wake him up.

He'd heard someone cracking open the backroom of the bar. Curious, but also nervous, he'd hid under one of the tables with his knife and watched how the person sneaked in, an empty bag in hand. He couldn't have been more than thirteen, and even from the distance between them, Junhui could see that he was scared to death.

He'd sneaked up to the kid from behind so he couldn't run away instantly. And when the kid had turned around and seen Junhui, the first thing he'd done was cry.

_"Don't hurt me, I'll leave, my dad told me to get him food and I'm just doing what he's saying, please don't hurt me!"_

Junhui remembers the cuts on his lips and the bruise on his cheek, the ripped clothes, and how skinny he was - so skinny and pale, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

He didn't let him go. Jisoo didn't either. They made him sit down on the floor of the bar and brought him food, and told him that if he just wants, he can stay with them.

That they won't hurt him. That they won't let anyone else hurt him, either.

He had chosen to stay. Junhui and Jisoo had taken him in as if he was their own little brother.

_"This is Hansol," Jisoo explains as Seungcheol looks at them with eyebrows raised and arms crossed, the others standing behind him on the doorway as they had just arrived. "His father treated him badly. He lives with us now."_

_Hansol's grip on Junhui's arm hurts, but the younger is almost on the verge of tears, so Junhui says nothing. He pats Hansol's hair with his free hand and looks up at Seungcheol to see his eyes soften._

_"Fine," the oldest says after a moment of silence. "Welcome to the family, Hansol."_

_The grip loosens, and Junhui smiles, pulling Hansol into the tightest hug he's ever given to anyone._

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
When Junhui starts paying more attention, he sees it.

The tension in Minghao's shoulders and his clenched jaw, the way he sometimes dozes off and ends up staring straight ahead with a dull look in his eyes. How he sometimes gets up in the middle of the night and presses Junhui in the soft sheets of his bed, going on and on for hours until Junhui nearly passes out.

He sees the scar on Minghao's forearm, and sees the way he frowns at the mention or sight of alcohol.

The frowns, the dull look in his eyes, waking up in the middle of the night - it's the same as Hansol. But while Hansol had buried himself in sadness and crying, Minghao hides behind his anger and takes it all out on Junhui.

Maybe they had also held him on the edge of the balcony and told him those awful things. Maybe they also shoved him down onto the floor or slapped him when he had disobeyed.

Junhui thinks of it when Minghao wakes up in the midst of the night once again and climbs in between Junhui's legs, his eyes burning as he stares down at him.

Junhui thinks of it when Minghao thrusts inside of him, one of Junhui's legs thrown over his shoulder, when he pulls Junhui's hair and takes him with his pure rage.

_Junhui's going to go home, and he's going to take Minghao with him._

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Junhui is sitting on the couch in the living room, his mind blank as he stares at the scenes playing on the tv. He can hear Minghao's voice from the kitchen, rising in volume from time to time, having a heated discussion with someone over the phone.

It's one of those days - neither of them got much sleep last night. Junhui had lain wide awake in one of the guest bedrooms, staring at the ceiling in the darkness when Minghao came crashing in, slamming the door open so hard the handle left a mark on the wall. Without a word, he had teared Junhui's clothes and violently pulled him up from the bed, pushing him in between himself and the wall.

He'd left Junhui there, standing against the wall with weak legs and an ache on his lower back, leaving the room with just a little less rage than he had entered it with. Junhui had a bruise forming on his cheek from having his face slammed against the wall.

Junhui has decided to be patient, even if it means getting more bruises and more pain, because he knows there is no other way out. He will never be able to leave by himself. He has to show Minghao that there is something else, too, something else than this apartment that's filled with so many expensive things but is still so, so empty - something else than the life Minghao has been living.

He needs to show him that there is still something good, even in this world.

Junhui hugs his knees against his chest, closing his eyes as he listens to Minghao's voice. He thinks of Mingyu.

Does Mingyu miss him as much as he misses Mingyu? It's been eleven weeks and two days since they last saw each other. That's a lot - that's a lot longer than Junhui has ever gone without seeing Mingyu and the others after getting to know them.

He wonders if Mingyu, or the others, are thinking of him right now, too. Have they tried finding him? Have they thought of ways to get inside the walls to get him back? Do they think he's dead? Do they-

There's a pang on his chest, so sharp he needs to inhale loudly, his hands trembling as he digs his nails on his skin.

The others - are they alive right now, all of them? What if they have gotten into fights with other teams, or even with those men who had taken Junhui? If they've gotten shot, or if they've fallen sick, like Seungkwan did. Anything could have happened, and Junhui wouldn't know - is Mingyu okay?

 _He has to be_ , he tells himself, trying to put his focus on his breathing. _They have to be. They are. Everything is fine._

He tells that to himself, but he can't get rid of the image where he finally gets back home just to find out that it's not the home he's been wanting to come back to. What would he do then? What could he do? Without Mingyu-

There's a crashing sound from the kitchen, and Junhui flinches, sitting straight up on the couch with the heavy feeling from few seconds back lingering in the back of his mind. Minghao walks up to the living room, his eyes burning with that strange fire Junhui has already grown used to.

Minghao walks closer to him, painfully slow, like a predator circling its prey. Junhui sits still and stares back at him. He knows he might receive a push, or maybe even a punch, but he's not afraid. He's way past that now.

But when Minghao finally reaches him, standing just by the couch in front of Junhui, he doesn't hit him, push him, shove him. He just looks down at him, head tilted a little with his hands balled into fists on his sides.

Junhui thinks that he kind of looks like a child.

"What's wrong?" He asks, careful to use his most meek, softest tone, because the air in the living room feels too still and quiet for him to use his normal voice.

And Minghao almost breaks. Junhui can see it - the tiny exhale of air and eyes blinking, the clench of jaw and the shaking hands. It's a brief moment before his face turns back into stone and lifts his chin, turning his back to face Junhui.

"I'll be in my bedroom for a few hours," he says as he takes a step forward. "Don't bother me."

Junhui doesn't.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
The bedroom where Junhui mostly sleeps in has a window that faces the same direction as the balcony does.

That means he can see the wall, and his side of the city. That's where he's looking at, leaning against the windowsill with his elbows, hands trying to grab on the glass of the window as Minghao works him open from behind.

It's been a while since Junhui last had such a bitter taste in his mouth. He can see the Han River, and following it with his gaze, he can somehow pinpoint where exactly his home is, even though it's too far away for him to see the actual building.

He can look at the place where Mingyu is right now, and whenever he closes his eyes, he thinks he's able to actually see Mingyu himself. And he thinks of how some day, he'll be back home, some day, he'll be with Mingyu again - he just has to endure this.

Minghao takes him again, hands on Junhui's hips, easy but harsh. The first snap of his hips almost causes Junhui to hit his head on the window in front of him. However, he avoids it, and suddenly there is a hand grabbing Junhui's hair and pulling his head back into the most utmost position it can reach.

Minghao hasn't let him cut his hair on the whole time he's stayed there. Nowadays, he speaks a lot of how much it has grown and how beautiful he looks.

 _Mingyu would like it too_ , Junhui always thinks, but doesn't say that out loud.

Junhui also wonders if Mingyu will forgive him for letting Minghao touch him like this without even putting up a fight. Guilt burns inside his chest, even though he tries convincing himself that this is all just to help him get away. _Is it really_?

Minghao lets go of his hair and instead grabs his hips again, burying himself so deep inside of Junhui it causes the latter to see white. His back arches and he almost hits his forehead on the window for the second time, burying his face in his own hands as he leans against the windowsill for support.

His legs are trembling and he's gasping for air as Minghao finishes inside of him, sharp nails leaving bruises on his hips.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Junhui wakes up the next night to the sound of the door opening once again. Altough, different to last night, it now creaks open slowly, creating a line of light on the wall Junhui is facing.

The footsteps are soft and slow, also different to the way Minghao stormed towards his bed the last time - different from the way Minghao always walks, no matter the situation.

Junhui is already pretty sure there is someone else in the room when the footsteps stop close to his bed and Minghao's voice breaks the silence.

"Are you asleep?"

Junhui stays still, pondering his options - and also in a little state of shock because of the new situation. He tries to keep his breathing steady, and in the end closes his eyes too, choosing to try and see what's going to happen if Minghao doesn't know he's awake.

The silence lasts for probably at least two minutes until he hears Minghao moving again, and then feels the bed shifting, followed by Minghao's fingers lightly caressing his hair.

Junhui almost flinches, but manages to stay put. His heart, however, is beating unnaturally fast, but he hopes Minghao won't notice.

Minghao moves again, and after a moment Junhui realizes he actually laid down onto the bed, right behind Junhui. His hand doesn't leave Junhui's hair, and Junhui is kind of half expecting him to just suddenly yank it and pull his head back.

But he doesn't.

They lie like that for what feels like ages, Junhui pretending to be asleep as Minghao plays with his hair. Junhui has to admit to himself that it's actually kind of nice, comforting, something he's been craving for weeks. It reminds him of Mingyu.

And it also makes him think that he has been right about Minghao - the latter is just hiding behind his anger, and there is actually something good, something softer underneath.

" _And Soonyoung's told me that actually, he's very nice,"_ Jeonghan's voice plays in his head.

Maybe Junhui has managed to find a small piece of his nice side. Just maybe. Hopefully.

Minghao's hand leaves his hair and lazily wraps around his waist instead, slowly pulling Junhui closer to his chest. His lips brush the back of Junhui's neck, releasing warm puffs of breath against his skin.

Memories of Mingyu holding him the same way flow into Junhui's mind, and he feels his eyes sting, clenching his jaw to keep himself together. He can cry later. He can think of Mingyu later.

"Good night," Minghao whispers. Junhui's heart skips a beat and he allows himself to open his eyes a little, a lone tear escaping and flowing down his cheek.

_Good night._


	4. Chapter 4

Jeonghan and Soonyoung come over for another visit. Junhui has already prepared cups of tea for Minghao and Soonyoung, so this time Minghao doesn't send him away after greetings, but makes him sit by him on the couch instead.

Jeonghan has a new collar. It's not black, but white, and it's decorated with expensive-looking jewels. He's also wearing matching earrings, which Soonyoung plays with absent-mindedly as Jeonghan sits on the floor in between his legs.

"Did you hear about what happened with Minhyuk?" Soonyoung asks from Minghao, taking a sip from his tea while running his fingers through Jeonghan's styled hair with his other hand.

Junhui watches how Minghao arches an eyebrow and leans back on the couch. "You know I'm not interested in gossip."

"It's not just gossip," Soonyoung says. "It's a big deal, Hao. He was caught releasing people," he pauses and glances at Jeonghan, " _slaves_ , from their masters. Apparently he had been trying to help them to return to their former homes."

Junhui perks up, his heart making a wild jump at his chest as he takes in the info. He looks at both Soonyoung and Jeonghan, and then at Minghao again.

Minghao looks back at him, a lazy glance, before turning his eyes back to Soonyoung. "What happened when he was caught?" he asks, his voice dull and disinterested, but Junhui can see that there is some kind of curiousity in his eyes.

"They will all face a death penalty," Soonyoung says. He says it in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't really care, but Junhui can't help but notice how his frown deepens a little as he speaks.

He wonders why all the people living here, inside the walls, try to hide their feelings behind a brick wall.

The apartment is silent for a moment, aside from the soft humming of the dishwasher in the kitchen. Junhui tugs at the hem of his skirt and looks up at Minghao just as the latter speaks up.

"I wonder why he did that."

"He's always been like that," Soonyoung says, his hand leaving Jeonghan's earrings to play with the latter's hair instead. "He does what he thinks is right."

"It's stupid," Minghao says, and Junhui feels his stomach drop. "It's not worth of risking your life."

Soonyoung shrugs, and then downs the rest of his tea as if it was a shot of whiskey. He gives to cup to Jeonghan, who gracefully places it onto the small glass table in between the armchair and couch.

"Right then," he says and gets up, in a way ignoring what Minghao had said earlier. "I could use the restroom now."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Junhui doesn't know what to think regarding the things Soonyoung told then.

He's sad and terrified because of the fact that those people were given a death penalty; but it also gave him new hope, some kind of trust that even if they tried and failed, Junhui could try too - and he _wouldn't_ fail.

Junhui could try. He will try.

He's going to turn Minghao's thoughts around and make him try with him, too. He's already seen that Minghao has a softer side, from that night when he came to Junhui's room and fell asleep hugging him.

Junhui will make it out of here, back home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
_Junhui almost jumps in surprise when the door of the bar is slammed open, followed by Jihoon making his way inside with determined steps. He tells Jisoo to go get the first aid kit, and the older immediately complies._

_"What's going on?" Hansol asks, hands grabbing onto Junhui's arm, still so young and so sensitive._

_Junhui tries to say that he doesn't know, but there is no sound coming out of his mouth when he tries to speak. Hansol looks up at him, questionably._

_"Seungcheol! What's going on?" Seokmin's voice rings across the bar, and Junhui turns his head to see the oldest walking inside through the door._

_There is someone with him._

_And if Junhui hadn't already lost his voice before, he would, now. He knows this day. He remembers it, this day, this exact moment. He must be dreaming._

_It's the day Seungcheol found Mingyu._

_It's that day, it sure is - but he's also sure that they didn't need the first aid kid back then._

_Seungcheol has his arm around Mingyu, and the other is trembling there, somehow looking so small, and Junhui wants to go there and hug him. There is blood all over his clothes and hands, just like that day, and he's crying - he's crying, and -_

And Junhui wakes up.

He has twisted his arm into a painful position while sleeping on his side, there are no covers on him and it's pitch dark in the room, meaning that it's still in the middle of night. He's not wearing any clothes. He never does when he sleeps in Minghao's room.

He lies still, despite his arm aching, listening to the sound of Minghao steadily breathing behind his back. His heart is hammering against his chest, and he tells himself that it was _just a dream_ , nothing to get anxious or scared over.

The aid kit meant nothing else than the fact that Junhui has been imagining things and worrying too much again. Mingyu is fine. Junhui needs to calm down.

But it's always easier said than done, and even though Junhui tries not to imagine things now, tries not to think at all, he still does - he goes through all possible scenarios in his head, all of them ending up with Mingyu getting hurt. Or _worse_.

What would he do without Mingyu? _For real,_ what would he do if he was able to go back home only to find out that Mingyu isn't waiting for him?

He switches his position a little so he can wrap his arms around himself, taking a deep breath as he does so. He can feel his hands trembling, fingernails pressing against his skin, and he realizes that he's kind of cold - but that's probably not the reason for his body shaking.

He closes his eyes, and if he imagines deeply enough, he's actually able to tell himself for a second that the sound of Minghao breathing is actually Mingyu.

That's enough to calm his racing heart until the moment he hears Minghao moving, and then seconds later feels a hand pressing on his hips.

Junhui doesn't dare to move or to say anything. He freezes, staring straight forward in the darkness of the room.

"You are shaking," comes Minghao's raspy, newly awaken voice.

Junhui doesn't answer him.

"I know you are awake, Junhui."

Junhui doesn't answer to that either, but he does move a little, peeking over his shoulder. He can barely see Minghao's features lying a few inches away from him.

He hopes the darkness will give him shelter.

"I had a nightmare," he says honestly. "I can't fall asleep again."

Minghao keeps quiet for a moment, but then his hand leaves Junhui's hip, so suddenly Junhui flinches and actually shuts his eyes, expecting for something like a slap.

However, he's pleasantly surprised as Minghao pulls a soft, thick duvet over his body instead - and it could be that he's imagining things again, but it's like Minghao kind of tucks him in, hands running over the duvet to make sure it's fully covering Junhui.

Junhui is speechless, slowly uncrossing his arms to grab the soft material of the duvet with both of his hands instead. It's warm, and comfortable, probably the most comfortable he's ever felt since he was taken away from home.

That causes him to drop his guard, almost completely.

"Sir," he mumbles quietly, voice so muffled against the duvet that he's not sure if Minghao even hears him, especially since the other takes a long moment to respond.

"What is it?"

Junhui hesitates, but goes for it anyways, pulling the duvet up to hide his face almost completely as if as a shield. "What kind of a future would you like to have?"

"Future?" Minghao repeats, and Junhui nods, even though he knows the other probably can't see it. "Why are you asking?"

"I'm just curious," Junhui whispers, still a little cautious. "You never talk about things like that."

It takes another long moment to Minghao speak up again. "What kind of a future would _you_ want?"

Junhui blinks, slowly moving the duvet away from his face and actually turning around so he's completely facing Minghao. He's not sure if that's a wise thing to do, but he has gotten far, and he's not about to back out. "Me?"

"Yes," Minghao says, his eyes staring back at Junhui in the dark.

"I want," Junhui starts, but then stops, diving deeper into the duvet before continuing, "my future to be with the people I love."

Minghao doesn't respond for a while again, his eyes looking like they're pitch black as he looks at Junhui. Then he moves his hand and takes Junhui's chin into a firm grasp.

"Your naïvety never ceases to amaze me," he says. Junhui doesn't respond, a heavy feeling growing inside his chest. "Do those people love you just as much as you love them?"

"They do," Junhui answers right away - because if there is _anything_ he is sure of in his life, it's this. "They do."

Minghao's grip on his chin hardens, but then almost immediately softens, and he lets go, and then turns his back to Junhui.

"Go to sleep," he says.

Junhui isn't sleepy or tired anymore, but he doesn't say that out loud. He wraps the duvet tighter around himself and closes his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

"These would suit you, don't you think?"

Junhui raises his head and swirls around to face Minghao, leaving his spot by the jewelry store's window. Minghao is holding up a box with two pieces of jewelry, and when Junhui takes a closer look, he sees that they're earrings. Expensive ones, he notes, looking at the price tag on the side of the box.

"Sir," he says carefully, "You don't need to buy me anything."

Minghao snorts but puts the box back down onto the shelf anyways. "You're wrong," he says then, looking at Junhui. "I do. I want you to look pretty, and all these," he tugs at the earrings Junhui currently is wearing, " _old_ ones are boring to me."

"You get bored of things very fast," Junhui says, only realizing how it sounds after he already has said it out loud. And even though he knows Minghao won't cause a scene in public, he's expecting him to at least frown and direct some sharp words at him, but in the end, he doesn't do any of that.

Instead he just says, "Yes, I do," and then grabs onto Junhui's arm to pull him closer. "I haven't gotten bored of you yet, though. Interesting, isn't it?"

Junhui blinks at him, and being at loss of words he just ends up nodding obediently, straightening his back when Minghao lets go of his arm.

He thinks back to that day weeks ago when Minghao had pressed him over the railing of his balcony, telling him with a soft voice, _"I could push you down right now, and no one would care."_

Maybe he would've actually already pushed Junhui down if he had gotten bored of him. Junhui frowns.

"Don't do that," Minghao tells him immediately, his gaze leaving Junhui's face as he focuses on all the different jewelry instead. "You look prettier when you smile."

Mingyu had once told that to him, too, his fingers holding onto Junhui's chin gently but firmly, looking into his eyes as he spoke. He always wanted to look Junhui in the eyes whenever they talked, grinning when Junhui had complained about it in embarrassment.

 _"You have such pretty eyes though, hyung,_ " he had whispered, intertwining his fingers with Junhui's. _"I want to stare at them until I remember every single detail."_

" _That's creepy_ ," Junhui had told him, even though he was smiling the whole time, clasping at Mingyu's hands as if he never wanted to let go.

" _It's not. Who knows, maybe I'll go blind some day and won't be able to look into your eyes anymore at all. Then at least I'll remember_ -"

Junhui interrupted him, squeezing his hands. " _Don't say stuff like that_."

God, Junhui thinks to himself as he stands in the middle of the store and watches Minghao rummage through expensive rings and piercings. God, he misses Mingyu so much, misses Mingyu and the others and their stupid, worn-out excuse of a home, misses sleeping on the edge of their makeshift bed as the weather gets colder, pressed against Mingyu's body to keep them both warm. He misses Jisoo, and Hansol, _everyone_ , he could literally sell off all the expensive jewelry and clothes Minghao has given him if that meant he could see even one member of his family.

That's all he wants, but sadly, no amount of money is going to give that to him. He inhales sharply, the bottled up frustration inside of him way too close to escaping. With shaky hands, he grabs onto Minghao's sleeve, tugging at it, not even thinking of all the possible concequences.

"What?" Minghao asks as he lifts his head to look at Junhui, an eyebrow raised in question.

Junhui opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn't know what to say, so he just shuts it right after, still holding onto Minghao's sleeve. He feels like a child.

Minghao is frowning as he steps closer to Junhui, but then it's like someone flips a switch inside of him, and his expression turns into something rather - _soft_ , and gentle. And Junhui has seen that nicer side of him before, but not like this, not in a place where other people can see, and it's never been so genuine, almost _kind_.

"Let's go outside," Minghao says, and Junhui barely can nod in response, letting Minghao take his hand and lead him out of the store, both of them completely ignoring the cashier.

Standing outside of the store, in the middle of the streets with some people passing by them, Junhui feels a little better. Minghao stands by his side and still holds onto his hand without saying a word, the two of them staring at opposite directions.

Minghao is looking towards the road that leads back to his apartment, and Junhui is staring at the wall, rising high and mighty behind all the buildings. It's very close - Junhui hasn't been that close to it in a while, since most of the time, he just stays at Minghao's apartment, or they go to the stores downtown, right in the middle of the city.

The frustration slowly changes into a deep, mixed sensation of longing, sadness and confusion.

_Why did they take him away from home?_

"It's getting late, and it's cold in here," Minghao speaks up, breaking the silence between them. "We should go."

Junhui wants to stay there a little longer, outside, breathing in the cool air as his fingers turn numb from the cold, but he nods anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
When they are back to his apartment, Minghao runs a bath in the enormous bathroom connected to his bedroom, undresses himself and Junhui and takes him to the bath with him.

Junhui is sitting in between his legs, leaning against his chest, and he thinks of the bathtub they have at home, of the days of carrying a dozen buckets of water upstairs and pouring them into the tub, only for all of them to bathe in the same water.

He thinks of that one time he cleaned the bathtub together with Mingyu, slapping each other with the wrinkled, dirty sponges as they bickered loudly, Jihoon peeking inside the room to tell them to stop yelling.

The water on their bathtub was always cold, freezing during the winter. It's now October, and the water in Minghao's huge bathtub is warm, and so is Minghao, his body pressed against Junhui's back.

October - Junhui has lived with Minghao for longer than three months, now. It's been more than three months since he last saw Mingyu.

He lets out a sob. He didn't mean to, but it escapes from his mouth, his eyes stinging as he tries to hold back the tears. Three months, and not once has he cried directly for Minghao to see, but he barely slept last night, and the night before, and he just misses Mingyu so much it _physically_ hurts him.

Minghao can complain all he wants, he can hit Junhui and call him pathetic for breaking down in front of him, but Junhui simply doesn't care, because nothing Minghao does could hurt him more than how all of this already does.

But Minghao surprises him again on that matter, and instead of pulling onto Junhui's hair and slapping his face, he wraps an arm around his waist and stays quiet, an empty but somehow an understanding look in his eyes.

Junhui curls up on his lap, the water splashing as he cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing an end in here


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minghao doesn't respond to that. He's silent, for a moment, twirling a fork in between his fingers. Junhui thinks that they're done talking now, but then he says, "You must really love him."

Junhui wakes up in Minghao's bed, even though he's sure he fell asleep in his own.

Rolling over to his other side, he finds out that he's alone in the room - the other side of the bed is empty, the pillows neatly arranged. He takes a deep breath and brings his hand to his throat, tugging at his collar.

He barely even remembers it's there anymore.

It's not dark outside anymore - the curtains are drawn shut, but there's a sparkle of light peeking from between. Junhui should get up, and he does, just after lingering in the softness of the sheets for a minute longer.

He wishes he could have the others there with him, in the warm apartment, taking warm baths, sleeping in real beds. He could share a bed with Mingyu every night, and they would cuddle close to each other even though they wouldn't really need to because it's warm enough already, and then in the morning they could make breakfast together, playing around in the kitchen and waking up everyone else.

Junhui sighs, rubbing his face with both his hands as he stands there next to Minghao's bed, a heavy feeling in his stomach.

It's already October, and it's getting colder outside. The others must all be sleeping together with all the mattresses pushed together again, pressed against each other for warmth at nights while Junhui is here. He wonders if they have enough food to feed everyone. What if they are _starving_? What if-

"Junhui."

Junhui's breath hitches and he swirls around. Minghao stands on the doorway, his arms crossed as he looks Junhui up and down, his brow quirked. He looks like he usually does, but then, maybe, there's something else to it - maybe his eyes look a tad bit softer, and his posture is more relaxed.

Or maybe it's just Junhui being hopeful and imagining things after crying in front of him last night.

"Come," Minghao says, sparing one last look at Junhui before turning around on his heels, "There's breakfast in the kitchen."

Junhui stands still, in his underwear and white t-shirt, and stares at the now empty doorway, his mind completely blank.

_Did Minghao make breakfast?_

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"Why," Minghao calls out from where he's sitting across from him at the table, "Is it not good?"

"It's good," Junhui replies quickly, his hold on the fork almost slipping as he glances up at Minghao. And he's not lying. The food is good - and that's the problem. After he had gotten out of his shock of Minghao cooking, his mind had fallen back to the horrible side of earlier with all the what ifs that get worse with every passing second. And while he knows he's exaggerating at some point and his imagination is running wild, he also knows that some of those thoughts are highly possible.

_What if there is no food left for them, anymore? What if someone got sick? What if someone got shot?_

_What if someone was taken inside the walls just like Junhui was?_

"What's the problem, then?" Minghao asks, and Junhui flinches, even though there is no venom to his words.

"I'm just thinking," he whispers, and then carefully takes a bite of the food just to show that it, indeed, is not quite the problem.

"What are you thinking about?"

Junhui stops for a moment, his hold tightening around the fork, until he decides to put it down onto the table and take a sip of the tea Minghao had wordlessly put in front of him along with the food. "My family," he says.

"Your family," Minghao repeats, and Junhui nods, stealing a quick glance at the other. He's got that usual, unreadable expression on his face, and Junhui feels slightly disappointed. "It's not your real family, is it? It's that- what was his name, again- _oh_ , Mingyu."

Junhui's heart leaps at the name, but he says nothing, holding the cup of tea with both his hands. Minghao puts his elbow on top of the table and rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, leaning forward,

"Tell me about him."

Junhui nearly drops the tea on his lap, catching himself at the last minute and putting the cup carefully onto the table instead. He looks up at Minghao, slowly, the latter already looking back at him, an expecting and sort of a curious look on his face.

 _Is this it?_ Junhui thinks to himself, _Did I get through to him?_

"Uh, I," he starts, fidgeting in his seat and tearing his gaze away from Minghao before he opens his mouth again. "He's, he's a year younger than me. But he's also taller than me, and," he inhales deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, because there is a heavy lump in his throat and something stinging his eyes. "And he's very caring, too. He likes to play around a lot, and he can be kind of clumsy, but he's also really smart and wise,"

He's aware that he's starting to babble, and it's probably not a good thing, but Minghao's eyes don't falter as he listens and Junhui just _misses Mingyu so damn much_. "And he's handsome too. I think- he has this beautiful tan skin and the kindest eyes I have ever seen. And he, his smile is beautiful."

He takes a deep breath and looks over to Minghao again, and then quickly wipes at his eyes, embarrassed of the whole situation. Who would have thought he'd be ranting about Mingyu to Minghao one day? "I'm sorry," he says.

Minghao doesn't respond to that. He's silent, for a moment, twirling a fork in between his fingers. Junhui thinks that they're done talking now, but then he says, "You must really love him."

Junhui almost forgets how to breathe for a second. He grasps at his collar again and tugs at it a few times, his gaze roaming the room until it settles on a plant placed on the windowsill.

"I do," he manages to croak out.

Minghao hums in response, and then gets up from his seat, bringing his dishes to the sink - unlike any other day, when it's been Junhui who does that to him.

Junhui almost feels, in a way, like they are just a couple of friends, having casual breakfast one Autumn morning like some people living inside the walls do.

"There is one way to get out of the centre to the other side."

Junhui freezes, his hands still grasping at his collar as he stares into nothingness, listening to the clinking of the dishes.

"You can get everything if you just have money, in here," Minghao continues. His voice somehow sounds clear and distant at the same time. "And I do have money. There's a van leaving, tomorrow."

"What are you saying?" Junhui dares to ask, his voice small and on the verge of cracking.

"I'm saying," Minghao starts, and then he's suddenly standing right behind Junhui, his hands on his throat - long fingers slipping underneath the leather of the collar, "That if you want to, I'll help you go."

"I..." Junhui swallows. "Why?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Minghao says. He leans down, his lips brushing Junhui's earlobe as he speaks. "Do you want to, or not? I'm guessing it's better for you out there than inside this pretentious hellhole."

Junhui snaps his head to the side and looks at Minghao with wide eyes, their noses brushing together due to how close Minghao is to him. That, however, is the last thing he has in his mind right now.

Is Minghao really offering him a way out? Suddenly, just like that?

"Of course I want to," he says, his entire body almost shaking as he speaks, "But I don't understand. How... _Why_..."

"Stop," Minghao hushes, and Junhui shuts up.

"I've done bad things, mainly to you," Minghao says, and Junhui's heart picks up its pace, hammering against his chest. "But I'm not a cruel person. Sure, it's nice to have electricity and good food every day, but I don't like it here either. It's about the people, I guess."

Junhui stays quiet, too dazed to even form any words, so Minghao continues, "I don't understand shit like love, and I don't really want to understand, nor feel it. It's not my thing. I wasn't raised that way."

Junhui's heart clenches in his chest, and he unintentionally glances at Minghao's arm - the one that holds that scar. Minghao sees it, but doesn't comment on it. "But I guess, while I'm a sad excuse of a person, I don't have to push that upon you. You have something to live for, be it something like love, I don't really fucking care. What I mean is, I'll let you leave, so you will live better."

Their eyes meet again. Junhui opens his mouth, and then closes it. Minghao smirks at him and looks away.

"Will you keep asking stupid questions or are you willing to leave?"

"I'm willing to leave," Junhui says, and then, clinging onto a completely newfound hope, he adds, "I have one more question."

Minghao sighs. "I told you-"

"Will you come with me?"

Junhui only realizes that he said it out loud when Minghao looks at him again, a genuinely shocked expression on his face.

He doesn't say anything, so Junhui decides to speak now instead. "You said you don't like it here. You could come with me, to my home. To my family. They could be your family, as well."

Minghao stares at him, his fingers trembling where they are pressed in between Junhui's skin and the collar. "Do you even realize what I have done to you?" he asks, as if Junhui somehow could forget.

"I do," Junhui says. "I remember everything."

Minghao holds onto Junhui's collar with both his hands and then, after a terribly long, silent moment, slides it off his neck. He doesn't say anything, but something flickers in his eyes, and Junhui knows he has won.

The collar is dropped down onto the floor.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well
> 
> it might feel like an open ending (or too sudden) but worry not, for this work is still a part of a series and the next part will be up,,, at some point. 
> 
> i hope you've enjoyed everything up until now!
> 
> (and with that said, it's almost 6am and i need to sleep, so i'll just. leave this here and go)

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @bbyhuis


End file.
